


Lurk.

by TaurusQueen413



Category: Jaguar "British Villains" Commercial
Genre: A self indulgent fic, Abusive Parents, Age Difference, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Kidnapping, BDSM, Basically Samantha becomes a personal cumslut after chap 3, Bathroom Sex, Biting, Blood Kink, Blood and Injury, Both main characters are emotionally deprived, Car Sex, Choking, Cock Warming, Cockwarming, Creampie, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Deep as in the furthest reaches of my kink list, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Domestic Fluff, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Face Slapping, Fluff, Guilty Pleasures, Hair-pulling, Ill be diggin deep for this one boys, Incorrect terms of mafias, It was different in the roleplay though, Just a thing to get my sexual fantasies out on paper no bigge, Kink Discovery, Like, Masochism, Murder, Music, Not so quick burn, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pack Orgies, Parents are shitheads in this, Partner Betrayal, Pop Culture, Public Display of Affection, Public Sex, Quickies, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, S&M, Sadism, Sex Toys, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Sex first feelings later, Sexual Frustration, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Smut, Spit As Lube, Sugar Daddy, Surpise kinks that'll help us later :), Teasing, They use sex as a way to get closer, This Is STUPID, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, This is a dump from an old roleplay, Tom was abused sorry, Torture, Unrequited Love, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Violence, heavy smut, if you will, inconsistencies, lots of smut, major daddy kink, not healthy, physical assault, smut in chapter 3, so self indulgent, sorry - Freeform, this is self indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25889152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaurusQueen413/pseuds/TaurusQueen413
Summary: Tom Hiddleston is the head of a very powerful group of people, a mafia of sorts. They loan out money to people, and punish those who dont follow their rules.Samantha Wilkons' father John Is a known alcoholic and gambler. His wife Sasha is an enabler.When Tom comes around to collect over 5,000,000 dollars from John, John can't produce. Sasha offers Samantha instead.
Relationships: Tom Hiddleston (Jaguar "British Villains" Commercial)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another story based on an old rp again haha I'm so sorry- 
> 
> Again, I dont know much about the mafia so bear with me, please thanks 
> 
> Also I kinda based the theme off of The Neighborhood's Lurk, yall should listen to it its DOPE

It was a cold December night, and Sasha Wilkons was making dinner for her husband, John. John was sitting in front of the tv, watching the newest rerun of Married with Children. Samantha had already eaten and gone to bed, upstairs with the curtains closed and the lights off. 

She had gone to bed shortly after her mother got home at 7. She didn't want to risk a fight with her mother, so she just sleeps. Her father hadn't eaten yet, but was already drinking half his weight in beer. Sasha placed a plate of mashed potatoes, vegetables and meat in front of him. He grunted a thanks in response and dived in. About 5 minutes after, a sleek black car pulled in. Both Sasha and John paused to listen. Neither were expecting guests, nor would anyone be out at 10 o'clock at night. 

Footsteps rushed up the rock path, followed by loud knocking at the door. Incessant knocking. Sasha grit her teeth and forced a smile. "Coming!" She cried, and opened the door. "Hello miss, may we come in?" Came a rough deep voice. Sasha hesitated, knowing that it was Shawn, Tom's right hand man. "Sure. Is it about the money?" 

"You know why we're here," said a smooth English voice. "Though this is the 7th time you and your husband haven't produced the money we need. Why not?"   
In strode a tall, fit man, with a diamond face, blue eyes, and clean, curly blond hair. He stood 6'2, with a dazzling smile and a intimidating aura. Even when smiling, Sasha feared for her life. His smile did not reach his eyes. 

John stood and wrapped an arm around his little wife, holding her almost in front of him. He eyes Tom and Shawn, sweating like a sinner in church. He couldnt tell Tom he spent it all on alcohol, again. Tom would break his hand.   
"I-uh, well, we-" 

"Had to pay bills, get food, put our child through school. I know the excuses. John, I give and give and give you and Mrs. Wilkons chance after chance. But you dont seem to understand what's at stake here. Now, I really dont want to do this, but it seems you need a reminder. Boys, teach them a lesson while I wait outside." Tom turned with no other words as Shawn shoved Sasha and John aside. 

Tables were turned, plates were broken, walls were hole punched, pictures were torn down. Every attempt to stop Shawn resulted in Sasha and John turned over the couch or on their backs, groaning. Tom waited outside, hands in his pocket, looking up at the cloudy sky. It was dark, of course. He would have to leave soon; a meeting between his faction and another gang was at 11. 

Samantha woke up to the sound of screaming and loud crashes, but she figured it was her father again, so she froze. She waited till a lull, listened. A voice she didnt recognize boomed from below. "See, now that's gonna have to be paid for! How are you going to pay, John?" Oh? Oh. Another man entirely. Sam sprung up and grabbed a metal bat from under her bed. She inched out the door and padded down the hallway. 

If this go wrong, atleast she can count on the man   
-hopefully- killing her quickly. She trodded down the stairs, as quietly as she could before coming bup behind a tall man with a buzz cut. She raised her bat and cracked the man over the shoulder. He grunted and spun around, his chocolate eyes confused. "Sir, their daughter is home." 

"Oh, she is? Bring her here, please." Samantha was grabbed, by the forearm, and shoved past her parents, confront of Tom. "She's grown taller since we last saw her." Tom nodded in agreement. "Definitely, though the last time we saw her, she was what? 16?"   
Shawn hummed. "I think so. How old are you now?"   
Samantha shrugged, "18 in May." The age difference was nearly 21 years. 

Sasha gasped and grappled onto her daughters hand. "Take her instead of the money! We can pay you back with her!" Tom clicked his tounge. "I dont buy people, Mrs. Wilkons. You know this." 

"You're not buying her, we're letting you borrow her! She can work off the money!" Sasha's voice rose as she spoke, determined to rid her house of these men, at any cost. "She wont complain, she wont eat much. She'll say low, quiet. You can even keep her for all I care! Just, please leave us alone." 

"Yeah, she'll work it off, we swear! Or you can pardon the debt for her!" John pipped up, breath rank with alcohol. He looked like he was going to be sick. Tom grit his teeth. He gave Samantha one look all over and sighed. "What does SHE say?" 

All eyes turned to Samantha, who shifted nervously. "I dont have much of a choice, do I?" Sasha hissed, digging her manicured nails deep into Samantha's arm. "No, you don't. You're going, and that's it." With pitiful blue eyes, she gazed up at Tom. "Then I'm going." 

"Get your clothes then, I'll be discussing the terms of our agreement with your parents." Shawn released Samantha and she walked upstairs.   
Below, voiced were heads talking about the terms and agreements. Every day she was with Tom, 3 dollars would be taken off their debt. Once cleared, she had the choice to return to her parents or stay with him. Samantha gathered most of her belongings and shoved them into her travel case. Clothes, electronics, books, toothbrushes, hygiene products, all shoved into a plastic travel case. 

This wasnt how she planned her night to go. Once packed, she shoved her feet into some black flats and slipped on a heavy coat. She didnt want to change clothes, what was the point? She hurried back downstairs, unable to say goodbys as Sasha shoved her out the door. "Fucking finally, one less mouth to feed. Have fun with her, Tom." Tom said nothing as he guided Samantha to the sleek black Jaguar in the driveway. He politely opened the door for her and she slid in, luggage between her pale thighs. Shawn slammed the front door as if to punctuate the end of their association. 

Tom slid in beside Samantha, as Shawn took the drivers seat. "Seatbelts everyone." Shawn chimed as if the previous minutes ment nothing to him. Tom and Samantha did as was told and Shawn drove off, away from Samantha's home. 

"Do your parents refer to you as such, often?" Shit, he was talking to her. "Um yeah, I s'pose they do. I never paid any mind to it, I just ignore them." 

"Its very rude of them. If you were my duaghter I'd definitely never sell you off to the mafia." "You're...the mafia?" Tom nodded. "Well, a part of it. I'm the Boss of this sector. Did you not know? There are many sects around this country. Which reminds me, you don't have an accent, are you not from the UK originally?" 

"No, I come from Salem, Oregon. My parents moved here when I was about 15, but I never really picked the accent. I never spoke enough to get it. The slang, I understand somewhat." A soft 'ah' came from Tom and there was a comfortable lull in the conversation. "Do you work?" Was his next question.   
"No, I do go to highschool. I'm in my last year."   
"Then you'll graduate under my supervision. Would you like to go to college?" 

"I dont know yet." Another silence as Shawn stopped at a red light. "I do like archeology, though. So that's something I'd definitely look into." This turned tom towards her, a wide smile on his face, causing this crowd feet to wrinkle up. "What kind?" "Ancient history, old towns, artifacts, Vikings, and whatnot. Restoration, definently." 

"Have you looked into a collage course for that?" Sam nodded, her curls bouncing. "I have, but I'd like to work first, save up some money."   
"That's understandable, I wish you luck!"   
"Thank you, sir."  
"Please, call me Tom. Lord knows we'll be around each other for a while. Let's start on a first name basis."   
"Alright, then. I'm Samantha. Nice to meet you."   
"Nice to meet you!"


	2. AYO UPDATED TAGS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seriously read them before continuing lol

In a mere matter of hours, Tom got Sam settled in with a nice room, and a warm bath. He was off go his study were he was to sift through the wave of emails he would surely be getting about his absence. He didnt care for emails, nor did he care of the people sending them. 

It was a waste of time on both parts; Tom wouldn't read them and they would get angry he didnt read them. His trusted friend Sheila, also his maid, came into the study, carrying a plate of whiskey and a few finger sandwiches, with meat, mayo, and lettuce. He liked a simple sandwich at night. 

"Shes settling in very well. Shes very polite, asking to help me. Help, can you believe it?" Sheila laughed, picking up Tom's jacket and shoes. "I can, actually. She'll be here a while, I'm glad shes doing well." Sheila rounded Tom's desk. "Shes a bit young, I'm worried what shes here for." 

"Her parents offered her up as payment. I took her. Have Matt put her on the company cell plan. And thank you. I've got to work, but I'll be in bed soon. Goodnight." Tom was distant tonight. Very stressed. The emails were troubling, very annoying. Very upsetting. New meetings, meetings he cant escape. Ugh. He shouldn't let Shawn talk him into sleeping in. It's not good for his credibility mor his reputation. But fuck did those meetings run him into a wall! 

He was tired even now,reading though worthless emails. All they did was run him dry. He was what you call a golden child. Talented in school, straight As, impressive work ethic. Now he was just burnout with distant family. He needed a drink. A good fuck, a good sledgehammer to shatter things with. 

Anything other than emails at a desk at night. Fuck that.  
\----------------------------------------------------------

In a room down the hall, Samantha was twisting and turning in the bed. She couldn't sleep. She had to many questions. What would life be like here? Would Tom have her do anything? Would she be used as a toy? A maid? A cook? What? She sat up, the wonderful navy blue blanket falling around her waist. The room was impeccably decorated, with white walls, golden and dark blue bedding, hanging lamps and Persian rugs.  
Across the room was a door, that led to a bathroom, which let to Tom's study, which led to his room. 

She stood, placing her glasses on her little face. She might as well get it straight from the horses mouth. She got up, and made the short trek from her room to Tom's study. Once at his door, she knocked. "Come in!" Boomed his deep voice. He sounded professional and adult. Her insides twisted and she didn't even know why. She walked in. "Ah, I'm sorry if I'm interrupting. I just have a few questions!" 

Tom took off his own glasses and flashed a pretty perfect smile. He motioned for her to sit down. it's alright! I'm just finished emails anyway! What's your questions?" 

"Ah, well I want to be of use to you. I dont know what my purpose is here. Do you have a certain plan for me, or am I just...here?" 

Tom thought for a moment. He had a whole staff. There really was no need for her here. But even so, he wanted her close. Where else was she to go? The moonlight poured in from his windows, casting a pale hue over her already pale skin. He gave her a one over.

Curly brown hair, big blue eyes. Tiny lips. Small frame, large thighs fit for her body type, relatively big breasts. If he had to guess, they'd be about 48D? maybe bigger? He didnt like thinking about it, but she'd be good for bed sport. Though she was very young compared to him. 

And she was a very sweet girl, she didnt deserve to be used like that. But then again, if it gave them both a job to, a reason to stick around this place, why not? Of course, her consent is important. 

"Actually, if you dont mind, I do have a job for you. Only if you agree, of course." 

She smiled, and he nearly cried. "Of course sir! Anything."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi so update, my mom passed away and I got a new phone. This took a while to update, but I cranked this one out for ya. I'm also working on a chapter for The Cost Of A Throne, and it'll be out sometime by the end of this week. 
> 
> Thank you for everything so far ❤️

The thoughts of her head between his legs, fat lips wrapping around his swollen cock, tears pricking at the long eyelashes that encased her pretty baby blues, cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and him slapping her cheeks, her gagging as he shoved himself all 7 and a half inches down her throat, that was all that was in Tom's head as they discussed possible jobs for her. 

She could be a lure for other men and women, a dishwasher (not speaking sexist-ly), a...well, that and being a personal whore for the mafia boss was about it. He had no clue of her talents or work ethic. Simple jobs like sweeping, washing laundry, cooking, delivering items, they could all be done by other people. But still, she wanted to help, the sweet little people pleaser Samantha is. They took a break from job discussing to tell anecdotes of their past. Tom smiled as she told him of her funniest story from school. Apparently a friend of hers had a stuffed animal, and someone else placed it on the closes in bleachers in the gym. "And so Frankie climbed up the bleachers like Indiana Jones, and whacked it off the top. The thing flies to the left instead of going down- and hits Mr. Way! Way turns around and looks at Frankie!" 

She laughs, throwing her head back, clutching at her stomach. It jiggled, and Tom felt heat crept up onto his face. It was no secret he liked bigger women- well women of any size. They were all beautiful to him, goddesses walking upon this earth. Samantha was the same, a bright bubbly girl shrouded in despicable silence and abuse. Her laugh filled him with butterflies and need.   
"With the most incredulous look on him, he couldn't believe he got hit by a small bear! He starts yelling, 'get down from there! You're in big trouble Frank!' Frank hops down and dashes, grabbing the bear-" she takes a sip of her water, tears clinging to her lashes, clumping them together. "He rushes Mr. Way, holding the bear, and zooms out the double doors!" 

"Did he ever get caught?" Tom leaned over his desk slightly, resting on his forearms. "No, he ran and didn't stop running. They found him an hour later on the roof, playing minecraft." Tom smiled, watching the way her curls fell down her neck, catching on her neckline. She shook her head and finished off her water. Tom had spent about an hour joking about his father's old hunting buddy who shot his own son who had taking the time to shit in the woods. The damn man hadn't been wearing orange, and his hat looked like antlers. 

It was bound to happen. Tom, in hope's of curbing his own lust, told the story is gorey detail, explaining how his father had to fish the bullet out of the young mans stomach before rushing him to the hospital. Sam hung onto every word, eyes wide. Emotions flicked like switches behind them; worry, excitement, amazement, and impressed awe. She immediately asked it the young man was alright now, which touched him. He reached forward and gave her cheek a pat, having been emboldened the whiskey he drowned like shots in college. He had tried, and failed, to derail his mind of her. Had it been that long since he had a woman in his arms? 

She leaned into his warm hand for a moment as he told her the young man was doing fine, just has some occasional stomach pain. "But back to the matter at hand, my dear." Tom crossed his legs and leaned back against the chair. 

"Forgive me, but... perhaps you and I could engage in a quid pro quo type of deal." Upon seeing her confusion Tom went on to explain in the most gentlemanly manner possible. Samantha took this moment to stand and stretch, walking around his study, gazing at the books he kept in perfect quality. 

"You and I engage in a sexual relationship, doesn't have to be emotional, but a...sugar baby/sugar daddy-esqe deal. Of course money is no object and you'd be paid for your actions. All you'd have to give me is your body, should you consent." Samantha felt her body heat up, but she wanted to tease him. Truth be told, the more they talked, the more she found him undeniably attractive. Tall, fit, handsome, bright smile and infectious laugh. He had a large bulge half the time she moved or looked at him, so he must've found her attractive as well. 

It was a nice offer, and she could use his money to get into a good college or start living in an apartment after her parents debts are paid. 

"If I say no?" She leaned against the wall, slumping just so that her nightgown slipped down her right shoulder. The swell of her brwst became more prominent. His breath hitched as he watched her, eyes scanning for anything that constituted as lewd flesh. "Then you say no, and the topic will be dropped." He folded his trembling hands over his lap, attempting to hid his large tent. He begged to whatever gods were watching that she didnt notice, should she refuse and the interaction be left off as comfortable with a twinge of awkward. 

Samantha smiled and turned to the window behind him. "Gods, is it hot in here?" Tom agreed that it was rather warm, and allowed her to open the window. She leaned out the window to look down at the streets below, bending at the waist. That wasn't even part of her teasing; she just wanted to see how high up they were. 

The chair squeaked behind her as Tom stood. He hurried over to the tray of alchohol and took another cup full. She faced him, resting her elbows on the sill. "If we're going to do this, I'd like for you to be a little bit more sober."  
"I admit my drinking is a habit I indulge in a bit too much." Samantha clicked her tongue, making her way to the door. Her hips swayed more than she wanted them too, but oh well. She opened it an inch, "Then I suppose I'll go to bed and let you sober up-" In a flash, Tom was beside her, slamming the door shut with his palm. She blink up at him, staring deep into his eyes. Blue clashed with blue, and the air crackled with electricity. "Would you be so cruel as to deny me an answer tonight? What if you forget in the morning?" 

"What if you forget?"   
"Oh, princess I do NOT forget." His voice dropped an octave, as he whispered in her ear. Her hand clutched at his shirt. He was so close to her, she could feel his bulge press against her waist. "Alright, I consent." A wide grin cracked on his angular face, right before he scooped her up into a deep kiss, plunging his tongue into her mouth. Her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers finding purchase in his hair. Nails raked across his scalp in the most delicious way, and he nearly purred. The kiss sobered him up, and spread a warmth throughout both of them. 

His arms held her up as her legs wrapped around his waist. His hands slithered under her nightgown, squeezing her cold flesh. She gasped, wide and audibly, when his hand grabbed ahold of her ass. Their tongues fought in a makeshift war for dominance, but both knew who really had the dominant hand in this. Tom carried her to his desk, where in one woosh, the contents of bottles and cups and papers were strewn onto the carpeted floor. Samantha's ass met cold wood, but she didn't dwell on it as Tom steps back, hands flexing at his side. "Take off your gown, princess."   
Her insides burned at his little pet name, and she complied immediately, throwing it into a chair. She crossed her arms in front of her and he made a face. "Red is stop, yellow is slow down and green is for go, understand?" 

"Yes, I understand." She bit her lip as he shook his head. "Repeat it to me, Princess. I won't do this unless you repeat it."   
"Red is for stop, yellow is for slow down and green is for go." 

"Good girl."


End file.
